


gathering firewood

by beanplague but sexy (beanplague)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, do NOT look at me i write the oc centric porn in this household, honestly dom/sub OVERTONES but like. they don't say it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26884588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanplague/pseuds/beanplague%20but%20sexy
Summary: Cousland is very, very sensitive, which might be a problem for Amell—who lacks any semblance of tact and is incapable of minding his own business—but thankfully, Amell is fully and embarrassingly infatuated with him, so it isn't a problem.And besides, Amell always knows the right things to say.
Relationships: Male Amell/Male Cousland (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 7





	gathering firewood

**Author's Note:**

> i took a nap while i was high and so this was the product of zoloft + weed + a nap that had the same effect on my brain that getting a lobotomy would.

It starts with a simple little joke: “Carrie, be a good boy and hold the firewood for me.”

Amell is incredibly observant. He thinks of it as the natural outcome of life as a Circle mage. You run out of things to do in that tower after enough time. When your studies aren’t enough to occupy you anymore, you inevitably turn to something else. Some double down on learning anything and everything there is to learn about magic, some focus on status, Amell focused on people. On watching them. It’s incredibly unlikely that something escapes his notice, and when something  _ does _ manage to do so he pounces upon it like a cat to a mouse.

This all to say: Carrie is hard.

Strainingly so, it seems. Amell notices it when he walks back to check on him, a bit concerned with the sudden quiet on his end. Carrie isn’t too talkative—and situations in which he is are often very difficult for Amell to deal with—but he doesn’t usually go dead silent for no reason. Yet here he is, dead silent. And very hard. And he and Amell are alone in the woods, with no companions around to see or hear them. Curious.

Amell takes a step forward, looking up at Carrie with intrigue. “What’s this?” he asks, cupping the bulge in one hand. “Excited, are we?”

“I—uhm—I—” Carrie shivers. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Amell replies. “I’m  very happy about this development, don’t you worry. I just wonder, you know—what could  possibly get you so riled up right now?”

“I don’t. You.  _ Ah!” _ Carrie cuts himself off as Amell palms him through his trousers. “I can’t—can’t  _ answer _ if you do that.”

“But you’re so cute,” Amell sighs, dreamily. “You make lovely little noises.”

Carrie makes this little squeaking sound in the back of his throat. Amell wants to bite him. Is that normal? He feels like it must be, because the urge to do so is overwhelming. He keeps his teeth to himself for now, however, instead taking the time to slip his fingertips beneath Carrie’s waistband.

“Go on,” he says. “I’ll recap the last few minutes for you, if you like. You and I were talking, and I made some sort of comment and you went quiet—”

“Good boy,” says Carrie.

“Hm?”

“You called me a… a good boy,” Carrie looks embarrassed enough to die. His blush isn’t so visible on his dark skin, but it’s there, and anyone who’s spent as much time clinging to him as Amell would notice. He looks down at the ground. He bites his lip, just a little bit. Amell wants to fuck him. “And I didn’t—I didn’t want to take it the wrong way! It’s just… just that you always sort of  _ do _ that. You know. Talk to me like you’re…”

“Like I want to fuck you?”

Another squeak. Carrie opens his mouth and closes it, before nodding. “And I don’t respond most of the time, because there are  _ people _ around, but—you know—the reaction is… it happens. Things like this happen.”

“Oh yes, they certainly do,” says Amell, gaze flitting down to Carrie’s erection once again, then right back up to his face. “I just wonder what it was about me calling you a  _ good boy _ that made that exciting for you.” A smile. “See, you make this face when I say it. Like you might faint. I love it. You’re  such a sweet, good boy, Carrie.”

“Maker’s breath,” says Carrie. “Does this need to be happening, right now? We could get back to camp—”

“It's late. They’ll be fine without us. Besides,” says Amell, “you wouldn’t want them to see you in such a condition, would you? That would be very, very embarrassing. Just imagine what they’d think.”

Carrie shuts his eyes. Amell can tell he’s thinking about it and—this is the difficult part—he pushes the barrier just slightly, leaning in closer to him, drawing his hand towards Carrie’s dick.

“Maybe they’d think that I fucked you,” Amell whispers, mouth close to the shell of Carrie’s ear. He wraps a hand around the base of his cock. “That I got you down on your knees and had you suck me. That I put that cute little mouth of yours to use. That I finished and came on your face—” Andraste’s ass, how pretty would that be? Carrie’s face, covered in Amell’s come. Or—what’s better? Come on his face, on his lips and dribbling down his chin, or the idea of him swallowing every last drop of it? The way he would look up at Amell after. God. “—and that I didn’t reciprocate. Maybe I just let you sit in it for a moment; teased you about how painfully hard you were before deciding that I wouldn’t let you come. Deciding that I’d drag you back to camp and let you stew in your own embarrassment.”

Carrie shudders. “They wouldn’t think that,” he says, clearly trying to keep his voice even.

“Maybe I took some creative liberties. They probably wouldn't even notice." Amell shrugs. “I was just testing some things—you’re a  _ very _ good boy, Carrie.” Actual whimper. Fuck. Amell is a patient person, but the temptation to just turn Carrie around and jerk him off is incredibly present. Still, he continues. “But despite your timidity, you’re very dirty, aren’t you?”

“I—it’s not  _ like that _ —”

“No, no, I like it,” Amell assures him. “I  _ love _ it. Love seeing you like this. It just makes me so curious. It’s easy enough to deduce that you have a thing for praise—but do you like shame, Carrie? Does it get you off? Be honest.”

Carrie looks down at Amell before his eyes dart off to the side. “… Yeah,” he says, almost inaudible. “It’s not… it’s not a  _ big _ thing. I just. I don’t know.”

Amell is not a religious man at all, but he feels like he could get on his knees and recite the Chant of Light by heart, right now. He leans in the full way, his mouth against Carrie’s. He’s so much taller. Amell has to stand on his toes to reach him. He pulls away and looks at Carrie’s face. So handsome, so desperate. “Did that fantasy earlier do anything for you?” he asks. “The idea of sucking me off? Would you want to do that?”

“…  _ Here?” _ asks Carrie.

“Well, I think it’s isolated enough. I suppose if any of our companions were looking for us it might be a problem, but it’s late. I’m not sure any of them noticed that we were gone,” says Amell. “I understand if it’s a bit intimidating, though. Perhaps we should go back to the tent? Maybe figure it all out in the morning. I can definitely wait. Though, I’m not so sure about you.” Carrie is still so hard. Amell is just about to suggest an alternate course of action—maybe it would be different if he were the one sucking Carrie off?—before Carrie meets his eyes, a sense of determination about him in this ridiculous situation.

“What is it that you want from me, exactly?” He says. His tone is less resolute as he follows with, “Tell me. So I can do it.”

He wants an order. Amell  _ loves _ to order people around. Carrie especially. “Get down on your knees, hands behind your back, and suck me,” he says. “Is that good?”

“Very,” Carrie says, his voice a wisp. Quickly, he sinks to his knees. Amell lifts the skirt of his robes and watches, enraptured, as Carrie gets to work.

He’s done this before, almost definitely. Amell knew this, but it was never so obvious as right now, when Carrie is kneeling in front of him, pulling down the waistband of his undergarments with his teeth. Amell hardly has time to adjust to the cold air hitting his cock before Carrie’s mouth is on him, soft and wet and warm.

_ “Fuck,” _ he hisses. Carrie’s tongue is flat against Amell’s cock as he sinks down on it, the back of his throat making contact with the head once or twice as he works up and down. “Your mouth is so good. How did you get so fucking good at that?” He threads his hands into Carrie’s hair. “Look up at me when you do this. Wanna see your face,” this next comment that pops into Amell’s head is a little transgressive. He should probably talk to Carrie before he says anything like it. “Wait, wait, get off for a moment.”

Wet  _ pop _ as Carrie pulls away from him. Amell could come right now. He doesn’t. Carrie tilts his head when he looks at him. “Are you alright?”

“How mean can I get?” asks Amell. “What’s off limits for me to say?”

“Oh,” Carrie’s lips are wet with spit. “Just… say whatever you like, and if I don’t like it I’ll—uhm,” he lifts one of his hands from behind his back—oh, right, Amell did tell him to keep them there, didn’t he?—and taps the back of Amell’s leg twice. “I’ll do that.”

“Been in this situation before, have you?” Amell tries, before moaning as Carrie’s mouth is on him again.  _ “Fuck. _ You suck me like a Denerim whore.” He waits a moment to feel the pressure of Carrie’s hand against his thigh, but is instead met with the vibrations of a moan around his cock. “You liked that? Liked hearing that your mouth is the best I’ve ever had around me? You’re so good. Fuck. Your face. Look at me. I told you to look at me before, didn’t I?” Carrie’s eyes are wide and glossy when he looks up at Amell. He’s so pretty, like this. Amell can only think of things that would make him prettier—marking him up with bite marks and hickies and things that say he  _ belongs _ to someone—but he pushes those thoughts away for now. That’ll be something to discuss later. For now, he focuses on the fact that Carrie seems to be taking him in  _ deeper. _

Amell is average sized; maybe a little disproportionate looking if you take into account how short he is. His cock isn’t  _ huge, _ but the fact that he can feel the tightness of Carrie’s throat squeezing around him is impressive and a little terrifying—he doesn’t want to  _ hurt _ Carrie—but then he feels Carrie’s hands wrap around his thighs, bracing as he surges forward to take  _ all _ of Amell into his mouth.

It takes all of his willpower not to just come down Carrie’s throat, instead pulling him back by the hair. “Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck,” _ he says, taking hold of his base and jerking himself off to get himself back to closeness. “Stay there,” he orders. The last thing he sees before he comes is Carrie’s face, eyebrows drawn up curiously as he stares up at Amell, pupils dilated and eyes wet; and the first thing he sees afterwards is Carrie’s face painted with his come. The sight is so wonderful to Amell—enough to make great men cry, really—but more wonderful is the few seconds after, when Carrie lifts his hands to his face and proceeds to lick some of the come off his fingertips. Immediately, Amell thinks of a million things to say to this, and somehow no words leave his mouth. “Fuck,” he says, finally. “ _ Good boy.” _

Carrie is quiet, and Amell looks down to see that his erection—previously straining against his trousers and  _ surprisingly _ big, is barely there at all—and at first he’s quite worried. Did he do something to make Carrie soft? Did Carrie not enjoy it? And then he looks at Carrie’s face.  _ Oh, _ he thinks.

“Did you orgasm?” he asks, letting his robe fall and kneeling down to be level with Carrie, who is pointedly avoiding eye contact. “Carrie, did you?”

“Seems like you already know the answer.”

“Say it,” says Amell. “Say that I made you come without even touching you.”

“It’s been a long night, hasn’t it? Maybe we could continue this in my tent,” says Carrie. “Or. You know. Actually find firewood, like we were supposed to.”

“Well, the time for that second thing has long since passed, I think. But the tent idea is nice.” Amell holds out a hand. “Next time, you can tell  _ me _ what to do, if you like.”

Carrie takes it. "Right,” he says.

“Unless you don’t want that,” suggests Amell, innocently. “Does that sort of thing have any appeal to you?”

“Again, asking questions you already know the answers to.” Carrie dusts himself off as he gets up. “Am I ever going to hear the end of this?”

“Of you coming all over yourself while sucking my dick in the forest? Not likely.” Amell’s tone is perfectly bubbly. “But that’s okay! I quite like this new element of our relationship, personally speaking.” He takes Carrie’s hand, turning back to him with a grin. “You know I admire you, right?”

Carrie blinks. He coughs awkwardly. “I know, Amell.”

“Oliver,” he says. “You feel the same?”

Somehow, Carrie seems much more embarrassed about this than he did about getting hard because of a little teasing. Amell finds it inexplicably charming. He wants to spend the whole duration of the blight and afterwards coaxing Carrie out of this lonely shell of his. Building something with him that couldn’t be found in any Circle tower anywhere.

Carrie says, a bit awkward, “Of course I do. You know that.”

“Good. I’m very, very glad.” Amell leans in to kiss him softly, lips barely touching. “I’m going to fuck you into the dirt, sometime. Be ready for that.”

“Maker’s breath, Oliver, you can’t just  _ say _ that.”

**Author's Note:**

> some things:
> 
> 1\. life is PAIN.
> 
> 2\. did i just make an entirely new OC because i couldn't see any of the companions doing this shit? yes. is the porn embarrassingly unironic and unfunny and direct? also yes. does it slap? assuming the weed i did 6 hours ago has worn off, also yes.
> 
> 3\. i listened to flower boy by pansy division while writing this. good song. good band.
> 
> 4\. what's their relationship in this? who's to say. i imagine that they have a sexual relationship in its beginning stages. they definitely have feelings for each other but had yet to advance beyond handjobs or whatever the fuck, hence amell being incredibly horny and yet seemingly having never seen carrie's dick.
> 
> 5\. don't look at me.


End file.
